


Saltwater

by larryent



Series: Power of Youth [8]
Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Beaches, Doctor Harry, Fluff, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, Merman Louis, No Smut, Short, does m/m also mean male/merman?, power of youth, poy larry stylinson, this is really short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 12:06:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15461007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryent/pseuds/larryent
Summary: Harry is a neurosurgeon and buys a beach house.larryent july 2018





	Saltwater

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LarryInPanties](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarryInPanties/gifts).



> I wrote this for my friend's birthday and it's our one year anniversary. Love you, A.  
> — jasmine
> 
> Warnings:  
> > nothing. Louis is just a merman but he prefers mermaid.

As a famous neurosurgeon, Harry strongly believed in science being the number one answer to all life's problems. Nothing connected to stupid things like the like supernatural or mythical — he found it all stupid, really.

He wouldn't call himself an atheist, but more of an "if-I-see-it-I-believe-it" man. He wasn't an agnostic, he wasn't that (ignorant and) indecisive. Everyday on the job, he plays God. He uses his steady hands and gives people life everyday — removing tumours. Sure, it meant countless hours and sometimes standing for ten hours at a time to preform surgeries but it had its perks. Most definitely.

Firstly, he was loaded. Fucking swimming in money. He lost count of how many watches he owns, all ranging from Rolex to Patek Philippe to Vacheron Constantin. At this point in his life, he was thirty-two and owned two houses in London and Los Angeles and one apartment in New York City, though most people his age are married and have kids, Harry has money and countless awards for his talent in neuroscience.

Like anyone, Harry soon finds himself becoming bored of the city-life with the busy streets, honking traffic and awkward eye contact with strangers he passes — should he smile? Does he wave? Does he look away even though they just held eye contact for three seconds?

And so, he sells his house in Los Angeles (since he loved his apartment in New York too much and his London home was the closest to his mum's) and searches up beach houses available for selling. Turns out, Harry spoils himself and buys a private beach with a house right by the shoreline.

     

     

     

     

 **p.s those pics are actually from a recover** **y beach house in Malibu. and also pretend it's on it's own beach lol thanks.**

     

     

* * *

 

"You sure you won't be too lonely?" His mother asked when he told her the news.

"Mum, I've lived alone for more than ten years. I'm pretty sure living on my own beach will be fine."

Harry just wants to enjoy his vacation before heading back to work and only have occasional visits to his new beach house.

And here he is, driving along the highway in his white vintage Mercedes Benz with his moving van behind him and a tow truck pulling along his black Ferrari.

His beach house came fully furnished (but Harry did love his furniture from his old house and was planning on selling everything he didn't need) with a brand new kitchen and appliances, gym, elevator (the beach house was five floors) and pool and hot tub, along with a dock that Harry plans to put a boat by. There was plenty of space for gatherings that Harry was planning on hosting once he gets settled in.

He spends the rest of his day moving in his furniture and sending off ones he doesn't need to be sold, the moves earn a hefty tip for moving Harry's vintage collectibles and his many boxes.

The next day is all about his clothing, he hangs up his suits, button ups and pants before moving onto folding, it's nearly six in the evening when Harry is finished. He marvels at his walk-in closet after shutting all his separate drawers with his ties, watches and all that.

The sky is a light pink, fading into a bright orange then to a red, leaving the rest of the sky to be a light blue. Clouds are no where to be seen, and a light breeze greets Harry when he steps out through the back door. He takes off his slippers and takes his first step out onto the beach, the sand is cold against his skin, with the sun being gone. The tiny white grains of sand pool around his toes and Harry can practically feel the relaxation course through his body.

He wastes no time in walking towards the water, where the waves crash gently along the shore. The water is cold, and his feet sink into the wet sand as he walks deeper until he's ankle deep. The blue waves of the sea are calm, almost like they're welcoming him home. His eyes drop to his feet just as a small shell appears by his heel, he bends down and fishes it out of the water, it's white with a soft pink along the bottom, shaped like a cup almost and small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. Harry smiles to himself before throwing it back into the ocean, watching it drop into the water.

Four days later and Harry is happy that he finished packing and selling furniture, and over all just making his new house a home. Though, he still wakes up at six in the morning, with a yoga mat and his speaker, Harry walks back out onto the beach. The sun's glow is warm and fresh against his skin, the humid air surrounding him as he unrolls his mat. Harry stretches and clicks play on his 'yoga playlist' before starting off with simple moves.

He planks for two minutes before moving onto other moves. He counts to himself and feels his joints burn, but it's a good burn. Later, he's doing downward dog, with his legs and back straight, Harry always finds this move the most complicated because of his bad back and one inch shorter leg. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, as he counts down from 180, he opens his eyes and loses track of his numbers. Right between his ankles, is  _something_  swimming in the ocean. They look like a human, but even with the low tides, Harry still thinks it's a bit dangerous to be that far out. He shuts his eyes for a moment, and just like that, the person is gone.

He was probably seeing things, with the sun beating down on his skin, it was all the heat. And so, he packs up his things and heads into his kitchen. He drinks about two glasses of water before swinging open the fridge and sighing loudly. He forgot to go grocery shopping, he's been eating delivered food for his whole stay so far. He showers and gets dressed in jean shorts and a t-shirt before getting into his Mercedes and programming in the nearest grocery store into his phone, then driving off.

Harry might be going crazy, either with loneliness or just the blazing sun. He continues to see that person in the water, always in the morning and always before he goes to bed. It isn't until Harry gets a call from his coworker, Evelyn, and confesses the strange sightings.

"You're brain is just not used to you being so secluded." Evelyn says. "You've lived in closed neighbourhoods and busy streets for most of your life, and now you're on a private beach."

"I guess you're right." Harry rubs a hand over his face. "I mean you can say I've seen the Loch Ness monster?"

"The Loch Ness monster lives in Scotland — if it did exist anyway."

And now Harry remembers why never willingly called Evelyn, she literally sucks the life out of him. They end up talking for a almost an hour, and by the time Harry is done listening to her voice, he thinks he's earned a glass of wine.

One glass eventually turned into two, then into three, four, five, and then the whole bottle was almost done.

Drunk off his ass, Harry walks out onto the beach. His bare feet on the cold sand and the last few gulps of his wine bottle in his hand. The moon reflects off the soft waves, and over someone sitting on his dock. The wine gives him a confidence boost allowing him to trudge over to the stranger, ready to kick them off his property.

"Hey." Harry says while blinking quickly. He holds onto the old wood railing of the dock, not hearing the creak of it over the sound of the waves. "You.. You shouldn't be here."

The person turns around, their lips quirked into a grin. "Hey there, drunkie."

Harry immediately shook his head, adding more weight on the railing. He doesn't drink often, but when he does, he gets shitfaced. "This," he gestures to himself, "is not me."

"It isn't?" The stranger's cheekbones are highlighted by the moon. "Then, who are you right now?"

Harry notes the stranger's wet hair. "Do you swim?"

"All the time."

"You must be the one who has been watching me."

"Watching you?" The person furrows their brows, their curved brows. "Okay, maybe I have."

"Don't stop." Harry slurs. "I like it."

"Okay, handsome."

"And, can you.. like walk me back inside?" Harry asks, suddenly forgetting about kicking the stranger off his property.

The stranger's face falls. "I can't exactly do that."

Harry pouts, is the pretty stranger scared of him? Truth is, Harry would be too if a drunkie came up to him and asked him to come inside his house. "Why not?"

Surprise, fear, and confusion hit Harry all at once. The stranger had pulled their other half onto the dock, and instead of thick thighs with dainty ankles, it was a tail. With scales, of blue and purple, slowly morphing into a gold at the end.

Here Harry was, seeing a merman. But not believing in mermans.

"I-I," Harry blink profusely "you.. fish."

The  _thing_  laughs, throwing his head back before returning his gaze to Harry. "Half-fish, actually."

Harry stumbles right into the railing, breaking the wood under his weight and then falling off the dock. He crashes into the water with the air knocked out of him, and unfortunately, drunk Harry isn't as good a swimmer as sober Harry. He helplessly flails in the water, swallowing saltwater and Harry really thought he was going to die.

Louis has had people do the possible three when he reveals what he is but never almost drown: run away, try to kill him, and faint. Mostly because people who can't swim don't go to beaches. And so, his first instinct when the drunk falls into the water is to rolls his eyes and wait for them to come back up and do one of the possible three, but the handsome man never resurfaces.

So here he is, trying to pull the man on shore, with nothing but his hands in mushy sand and his tail wiggling behind him. It's still dark out, causing Louis to lean closer to the man to see his features. His pointy nose, pink lips (a bit white at the moment), and long lashes. When Louis is only millimeters from the stranger's face, he can't hear any breathing.

Louis isn't stupid, maybe a bit neglectful and ignorant but not stupid. He knows humans need air, and currently, Harry's were filled with water. So, he puts his hands over Harry's chest, with one palm open and the other clasped around it, before pushing down hard. The he tilts up Harry's chin, and plugs his nose before giving him CPR. He does this in intervals, not long until Harry is shooting up, as if being risen from the dead (which is close to what it was). He rolls on his side, coughing up water and pressing his forehead into the sand.

"You aren't dead, that's a plus for me." A voice says from beside him. "I've never killed anyone, and I killed you, that would be a major lose in my books."

Harry is afraid he's hallucinating as the side effects of his previous accident. All evidence of that being true are wiped away when he sees a large, fin splash in the water. He screams and tries to stand up, only leading to him tripping over his feet and face planting in wet sand. He finds himself screaming again and spitting out the sand through his yells.

"You're a mermaid." Harry turns on his back. "Merman?"

"I like mermaid, it sounds prettier."

Harry decides he was on serious drugs, and none of this was real.

"It's all real, actually."

Harry screams again, his throat is going to be sore tomorrow. "You can read my mind?! Stop it!"

"No, you idiot." Louis rolls his eyes. "You said that aloud."

"I can't believe this is happening to me." Harry whispers. "I can't believe I was almost murdered by a mermaid!"

"This mermaid has a name, and it's Louis."

"I was almost murdered by a mermaid with a French name in Malibu!" Harry shouts. "How did you even get here?" He wishes the wine wasn't wearing off, too bad his bottle is somewhere in the ocean.

Louis finds humour in Harry's facial expression. "I swam."

"This is so fucking weird."

"You can ask me questions to make it less weird."

"Can I touch it?" Are the exact words to come from Harry's mouth.

"What's your name?"

"Harry."

"Okay."

Louis waves a hand to Harry, allowing the soaking wet, sand-y man to walk closer. He drops to his knees and glances at Louis for a moment, in the dim moonlight his eyes are a dark blue. With hesitation, he reaches out and his fingertips just ghost over Louis' tail. Harry's face is overcome with amazement, and he runs his hand over Louis' tail, feeling the layers of the scales. It's a little slimy but smooth, and cold.

"Wow."

"Can I touch yours?"

Harry licks his lips, still captivated by Louis' tail. "I don't have a fin."

"No, your legs."

Harry nods and pulls his hand away.

Louis' hand is cold against his skin, his fingers touching Harry's leg hair despite it being a little bit weird on the latter's side.

"Wow." Louis repeats what Harry said, he was in awe.

* * *

 

It's been a few days, and Harry has been spending most of his time out by the shore, waiting for Louis. He never had to wait long, because Louis would show up a and poke his head out of the water at about the same time Harry went outside.

They spend most of their time on the dock, talking about their lives and outlining the differences between them. Harry told Louis about his family, in exchange Louis explained his life under the sea with his parents and the whole mermaid community — it was almost all a fairytale.

"No one does anything but swim and complain about pollution, rightfully so." He told Harry. "Everyone is kind of scared of humans, I never was because I just never felt like I belonged. I guess I always knew there was something beyond the waves and coral, you know?"

Harry confessed he had truly though he was going crazy the first night he met Louis, after all it was like everything he believed in was disintegrated into nothing. And everything he didn't believe in became his everything.

"Can't you just, sell your soul or something to get legs?" Harry sipped on his lemonade. "Or true love's kiss to break the curse?"

"No," Louis squinted through the sunlight. "All have you know, I'm not cursed, I was born like this."

"How were you born?"

"Mermaids lay eggs."

"From where?"

"I'm not showing you!" Louis sees Harry open his mouth. "Or telling you."

* * *

 

Louis was fascinated with feet and it was the strangest thing Harry has ever faced. The mermaid now owned most of Harry's socks (i typed cocks at first) and his shoes, ranging from his sneakers, boots, flip flips, and loafers. There was really no use in getting them back, the smell of the ocean out never get out after being soaked with water.

"What's it like?" Louis asked one day when they were lounging on Harry's dock, under a patio sun shade.

"What?" Harry asked, flipping up his sunglasses to look at Louis, his eyes drifting to the tail dangling off the ledge.

"Living up here." Louis said.

"Oh. I guess you can say it's good? I don't know, I don't really have anything to compare it to." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, there's a lot to do. You can travel the world, see monuments, go sky diving—Louis why are you crying?"

"What do you mean?" Louis frowns, then he touched his face. "What is this?"

"Those are tears, they fall from your eyes when your sad." Harry says scooting closer to Louis.

"Whenever I'm sad at home, I don't have tears."

"That's because you're underwater." The man who strictly sided with science and physics found himself feeling pity for the mythical creature in front of him. "Why are you sad?"

Louis looks down and traces over his scales. "Because I'm stuck here," Louis says, "and you can do so many things. You have no idea how lucky you are."

And that night, Harry falls asleep listing the millions of things humans take for granted.

"Harry, what is this?" Louis asks, and tries not to giggle too loud at the man's attire.

Harry was dressed in scuba gear, holding an oxygen tank and goggles. "Today, I'll show you the reasons why you're lucky."

Never in a billion years would Harry expect to drive into the Pacific Ocean with a blue-eyed mermaid, as they say, expect the unexpected.

* * *

 

**"Think of true love as sunshine, and fate be the ocean. The sun illuminates the sea, allowing hidden things to appear, showing us the unknown. True love allows us, to see our fate; the parts of us we are meant to be."**


End file.
